


Bright Eyes

by otapocalypse



Series: Sheith Angst Week 2018 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Again lots of blood, Angst, Blood, Drowning, Graphic Description of Bleeding Out, Graphic Description of What It's Like To Die, Hallucinations, It's a ride folks, M/M, Needles, Panic Attacks, Shitty Made-up Planet Names, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 05:26:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15812322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otapocalypse/pseuds/otapocalypse
Summary: Keith is dying of a gunshot wound, unable to contact the team, and drowning in a foot of water. It's just not his day





	Bright Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Again, mind those tags, folks. It only gets heavier from here and I want to be upfront about how triggering this can get. Stay safe

Keith never thought his death would be the result of something so simple as a single gunshot wound. But it was in his stomach, and the team had to retreat, the Galra faction occupying the ruined planet eventually being driven away by an attack raining down from the sky.

Now, he was alone, and quickly growing weaker by the second.

Keith had managed to drag himself to the edge of a lake, the planet’s three suns bearing down on him and driving him into the cool water, but the pain was too great to try and drink, and his blood was quickly soiling the small pool. He knew, from the weak pulsing of his heart and the pain clouding his thoughts, that he was bleeding out fast.

It’d been hours since he’d last seen the team, or his lion- anyone, for that matter, and his several attempts to contact Shiro, Pidge, the Castle- everyone he could think of, had all failed. Keith grit his teeth as another wave of pain tore through him, threatened to weaken him further, his will to live gradually draining along with his blood, too dark and too thick, staining the water and ground around him too quickly. The strength was gone from his limbs, and more than once he found himself drifting, only to awake choking on a coppery mix of water, mud, and his own blood.

Growing dizzy once again, Keith tried to shake himself out of it, causing only more pain and more muddied water running into his eyes. He coughed, weakly, trying to rid himself of the feeling of being choked, and stiffened as the pain increased.

His hand was shaking terribly as he reached for his helmet again, for a moment panicking as he was unable to press the button to the communicator, finally managing to do so and somehow hold it down as he rambled quickly.

“Shiro, it’s Keith-,” he coughed powerfully, his shoulders wracked with the force and tears squeezing from his eyes, “Location is… Valnesse District, Northern Hemisphere of planet Adronides. Suffering from… exsanguination. Getting worse. Sending coordinates out now.” His voice was no more than a hoarse whisper, and the effort of talking had left him trembling all over, his arm stiff, and he fought off spasms as he let his hand drop back beneath the surface of the water, digging his fingers into the mud as another wave of pain rolled through him, threatening to render him unconscious.

Static crackled in his head, and for a moment, Keith thought he was experiencing some new symptom of blood loss, madness, before he realized it was the communication line, and he remembered- he had to enter his coordinates. He reached up again, but his remaining arm couldn’t hold his weight, and he was sent crashing beneath the water’s surface again, immediately in a panic as water filled his lungs, the ache pressing out from his chest until he thought he would explode.

To think, he was going to drown in just a foot of water.

In his panic, Keith scrabbled at the mud and stones, using all his strength to push out with his arms, and he broke the surface once more, retching miserably, water flowing uncomfortably from his throat and nose, a deep, sharp, deadly ache pounding throughout his entire body, increasing until he again felt the world tip around him.

There was nothing else to do- he’d have to drag himself out of the water, at the very least, and find something- maybe there was a plant nearby he could strip fibers from- anything, to stop the bleeding. Feeling like Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders, Keith lifted his head, looking around- golden, rocky hills surrounded him, reflecting the suns’ light into his sensitive eyes until tears spilled over his face, but still Keith searched, finding nothing but the bright rock, and finally the landscape shimmered out of existence as the tears overtook his gaze, running freely down his face and falling to join the murky water below. 

Keith allowed a moment to psych himself up- all was pain, from the burning of his eyes, to the ache in his lungs, to the ever-growing, sharp ache and tear in his stomach. He was dying. He couldn’t stay here. Steeling himself, Keith rose further up on his arms, and curled his legs in on himself, ready to take his weight on his hands and knees, and surged forward.

The pain immediately increased tenfold, and Keith couldn’t even scream before he felt more than heard the rattling tear in his stomach, the muscles rending apart as the movement forced the bullet deeper, or sideways, or maybe even right out of his flesh, he couldn’t tell. All he knew was, this was bad. The thought was almost amusing, the world slowing down around him as water surged up once again, and from a distance Keith could sense his limbs curling in on his body, pressing uselessly at the source of pain.

Nausea made his blood run hot, too hot, and panic, the realization that this was how he was going to come to an end, sent him thrashing, screaming himself hoarse, all care of dignity or an honorable death long forgotten, his body acting beyond his mind. His fingers were raw from scrabbling against the rocks, water splashing around him, and he watched, far away, as the water went from a grayish murk to a deep, sinister red, the color floating by merrily. He assumed it was all his own.

The cold came next. Where just moments before his blood had been boiling, Keith suddenly felt the water around himself turn icy, and he began to shake all over as the bite in his skin added to the pain. A tickle on the back of his neck roused him from the verge of another black out, and he realized his hair was standing on end, the parts of his body not submerged sweating buckets. He’d lost the energy to scream, his throat aching along with the rest of him, but the panic still seized him again, and he wished he had never learned the signs of being so close to death.

“Shiro, please…” He heard himself sobbing before he’d realized he was clutching the helmet’s communicator again, his head ringing with white noise so he could hardly make out his own words, “I don’t want to die alone…”

Another spasm sent his arm stiffening again, and the sensation suddenly spread, as if he were turning to stone, his jaw locking, shoulders and back cramping. There was no sensation left from the wound. The shaking grew worse, until Keith simply willed it to stop, silent and bearing the tics as he waited for death, unaware he was hyperventilating as well.

“Keith, we received your transmission and we are on our way. But you need to calm down.”

_Shiro?_

“Listen to me. You still have time, but you need to slow your breathing and your heart rate. Your body’s going to start producing higher levels of carbon dioxide as your oxygen levels drop. This is going to affect your mental state; I need you to stay with me-”

“Shiro-” Keith interrupted, shivering heavily, unable to form the words for a moment, “-Can’t- I can’t stop…. Stop the shaking. Can’t sto… stop the breathing…”

“Hello, Keith.”

_Now what..?_

The last thing Keith wanted was to turn his gaze to the rocks again, but that was where the familiar voice was coming from, and his eyes were up before he could stop them. Shiro- only it wasn’t Shiro. There was a violent light in his eye, his arm had returned, and it was glowing a horrible bright purple. Keith almost laughed, Shiro’s previous warning ringing in his head.

“You’re no’ real..” He slurred, a ghost of his old cocky grin sliding across his face. Kuron regarded him emotionlessly.

“Tell me, Keith. Does this feel real?” Ever so gently, he laid his burning hand over the scar on Keith’s face, and a scream tore the air.

Arms were suddenly everywhere, groping at him, tearing at him, dragging him free of the water, and Keith kicked out, only succeeding in splashing around some more, fighting his team every inch of the way as they dragged him back to the lions. 

Keith, at the first sight of the ship waiting for him, shuddered once, and his body chose that moment to go limp.

“Get him up on the table, now-”

“What about getting him back to the main ship?”

“There’s no time, we need him stabilized now-”

Experimenting on him, if Keith had to guess. The Galra had apparently returned for one of their own, and upon seeing he was only half, Keith had become their guinea pig. At least he was going to die before they got anything useful out of him. He felt the cut of a scalpel, the pull of a needle and thread, the pinch of a needle, all far away. All too late. He welcomed the blanket of darkness that settled over him again, only sorry he couldn’t have apologized to Shiro for being unable to hold out.

-

“His heart rate is low.”

Shiro glanced up at Allura from where he sat by Keith’s side, his own arm newly bandaged and several screens surrounding the younger Paladin, one of which Allura was surveying now. They had quickly operated to remove the bullet and close up the wound, and had pumped as much blood as they could handle into Keith’s veins, and still he had not woken up. He hadn’t passed either, Shiro reminded himself. He took a breath.

“Will he make it?”

“Only time will tell.” Allura murmured softly, turning away. The others had already left for their lions. “I will give you some time alone.”

Those words sunk in then, and as Allura left, Shiro was torn, wanting to deny it- Keith would be okay. He had to be. So why spend time alone with him? Shiro wished he didn’t understand why. He had been holding Keith’s hand throughout the entire ordeal, massaging lightly where he could feel the man’s pulse, weak but still there, the only sign that Keith was still fighting. But as it was, he was losing the battle. 

Careful of the wires and other equipment, Shiro inched closer, wrapping his remaining arm around Keith’s shoulders and drawing him up to lean into his chest, tucking Keith’s head just beneath his own. He stroked Keith’s hair, saying nothing, and after a while, began to sing softly.

“Bright eyes, burning like fire…” He couldn’t keep his voice from the roughness it possessed, and so ignored it, “Bright eyes, how can you close and fail?” Keith didn’t open his eyes or lift his head, and there was no mumbled answer to his question like in the movies. “How can the light that burned so brightly suddenly burn so pale?” Shiro croaked softly, tears burning the back of his eyes. He bowed his head, holding Keith close, and whispered the final lyric of the song.

“ _Bright eyes_ …”


End file.
